


Lead Me to the Light

by singmetothesun



Category: Thunderbirds
Genre: Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minor Violence, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-04
Updated: 2021-01-18
Packaged: 2021-03-14 23:55:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singmetothesun/pseuds/singmetothesun
Summary: Alan isn’t okay. There’s a storm behind his eyes that’s threatening to tear them all apart. Can his family save him in time?Trigger warnings for suicidal ideation, self-harm, and mild violence.
Comments: 10
Kudos: 23





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> leadmetothelightx requested this of me over on fanfiction dot net (by which I'm extremely flattered!) and it instantly ran away from me. It may get a bit dark and angsty. Strap in because Baby Tracy is about to go through it *hides*
> 
> Trigger Warning for suicidal ideation and self-harm.

_Is anybody out there?_ _  
_ _Can you lead me to the light?_ _  
_ _Is anybody out there?_ _  
_ _Tell me it'll all be alright_

 _Is anybody out there?  
_ _Can you take this weight of mine?_ _  
_ _Is anybody out there?_ _  
_ _Can you lead me to the light?_

 _Lyrics from_ _**Carry On** _ _by_ _**Ruelle & Fleurie** _

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

He runs.

Away from the threat. The path stretches out before him, a familiar trail he's walked so many times before. Always safe, always secure. Except now he's running like he's never run before; like his life depends on it. His feet slap down hard on the yellow concrete, the noise echoes in his ears and alarm bells go off in his head. All wrong. Too loud. He needs to be quieter. Silent.

Except he also needs to move his ass and fast. He's being chased, he can hear them behind him. He's in danger, the prey running from the predator. He won't stop. He can't stop.

He knows this path like the back of his hand, it snakes down from the pools all the way to the beach. He's spent half of his life on this island. But he also knows the jungle. The jungle is supposed to be off-limits, but he knows it anyway. Kids break rules. That's where he needs to go.

_Get off the path. Away from the beach. Off the track and into the brush. Let them lose your trail._

He darts off to the left and the foliage instantly gets thicker. It swipes at his ankles and at his face but he's agile. He jumps, he ducks, he rolls. His breath comes out in pants as he sprints, covering ground like an impala escaping a cheetah. His arms and legs collect grazes from the giving leaves and branches, and he welcomes them.

All of a sudden, he trips and flies forwards, arms out to brace his fall. But his momentum carries him forwards still and he regains his footing and breathes. He can't stop, not yet. But he must be losing his pursuers, those who don't know the island as he does.

Another ten minutes and the jungle begins to thin out. He's reached the northern tip of the island; he sees the satellite station to his east and the memories flash before him like lightning. But he quashes them, shaking his head as he keeps on running. Another few hundred metres and he's there.

He stops.

The waves are battering the cliff below, an untameable monster with its mouth wide open ready to swallow him whole. The wild breeze whips his hair and the adrenaline pumps through his veins. He stares down, eyes wide, breath coming in pants. He wants it to take him. Anything to stop the deep ache within his chest. The grief.

The tears are flowing, thick and fast, hot and wet. His limbs are like lead now, holding him to the spot. The noise of the sea is deafening and yet inviting. His breathing is heavy. The hole in his heart is so wide he's surprised he can't see it in his own chest, the way it claws at his insides and he screams.

The sweat pours off of him and he wipes a hand across his face. His breathing is still short and heavy, and his throat is raw, but he can feel the blood pumping through his veins and just for a moment it overtakes the pain of loss. That's why he was running. To feel anything else.

But now he's stopped running and, although he feels the burn in his legs from the exertion, the weight of heartache is suffocating, all-consuming. It threatens to break him and god it _hurts_. His cries are loud; he's giving away his position.

He approaches the cliff. He needs it all to stop. It's the only way he can make it stop. He doesn't want to live with this. This blinding pain in his chest that tells him what he knows is true. He's not coming back. He's gone. Forever. He can't do this. He doesn't want to do this.

It's not fair. He can't do this. He's just a step away and then it's over.

There's a noise. Someone shouts.

He falls.


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some mild violence.

* * *

**Chapter One**

* * *

It all felt like déjà vu to Alan. Going through the motions at boarding school, getting ready to come home for the holidays, and then lo and behold his own family members couldn't pick him up.

He'd been so excited, ready to babble to his father about how his grades had now picked up, and to John about how he'd matched his own high school personal best for track. But no, apparently, they all had more important things to do.

He should have been used to it. But it still hurt.

Lady Penelope had promised that Jeff and his brothers would have been there if they could, but he'd only grumbled under his breath as he'd stalked off to fetch his luggage. Fermat tried to cheer him up, reminding him they were now on summer vacation, but Alan just silently fumed, sitting in the back of FAB 1 with his earphones in and feigning sleep to avoid conversation.

Nothing had changed it seemed.

After Spring Break, after The Hood, after London, he'd have thought he would have gained a better standing within the family. He understood International Rescue, of course he did, but Alan was still annoyed he was yet again tossed aside like something unimportant.

They still didn't trust him. They still didn't care about him.

When they reached the island, Alan dumped his luggage off in his bedroom before getting changed out of his uniform into more comfortable attire before heading off down to the beach.

You would think that a small island in the middle of nowhere would be somewhat claustrophobic, especially with three sub-families living there and sharing the space. But Alan found strength and comfort in the expanse of nothingness out over the horizon as he stood on the shore, the waves lapping at his bare feet. After their forays into the jungle over spring break, he also felt like he knew the island in a much more intimate fashion now, and she was definitely his home.

He scanned the white sand for a suitable stone, picking one out and loading it into his skimmer. He'd fashioned it himself the previous summer, using some scrap metal from the silos before they got fed to the junkyard. It was a nifty invention if he said so himself. Ordinarily, he could only skim a rock about twenty feet, but with the skimmer gadget itself, they could get lost as far as fifty feet and probably further.

He froze upon sensing another presence with him on the beach, only to relax when he saw it was Tin-Tin. He smiled and held up a hand in greeting, before pressing the release and shooting the flat rock far out into the waves. They always washed back up onto the beach eventually.

"Hey, Alan," she said, coming nearer and sitting down about six foot to his left. The breeze whipped her dark hair around her face as she drew her legs up to her chest. "The others are looking for you."

"Oh, they're back?" He busied himself with scouring the ground for another suitable stone, kicking up the sand as he did so.

"Well, your dad and Scott aren't yet. Virgil and Gordon never left."

Alan frowned. "What the hell?"

"Something came up with the office in New York. Virgil's in his studio and, as far as I'm aware, Gordon's been sleeping all day."

"Sure. So no one could collect me from school, as usual, and I have to find out from Lady P turning up at my dorm?" he snapped, releasing another rock. _Fantastic._

She held her hands up. "I'm just the messenger."

Alan scoffed _. Messenger._ Of course, his brothers couldn't even come and tell him themselves even though they were _looking_ for him. "Whatever."

* * *

When they got the call for dinner, Alan made sure to be the last to turn up so as to avoid the inevitable display of teasing affection he usually got when he came home. Hair ruffles, hugs, getting looked up and down. He just couldn't stand it.

"Hey, sprout, how was the journey back?"

"Fine."

"Alan, how's school going?"

"Fine."

That was the extent of the conversations, and he found they left him alone after several attempts, chatting amongst themselves instead. Alan found he just wanted out of there as fast as possible. Onaha's cooking was so much better than boarding school cafeteria food, but he found himself eating very little. Each time a brother's concerned eye fell upon him, he'd just smile and nod, hoping to cast the attention away from himself.

As soon as they finished, he ran upstairs to his room under the guise of unpacking. Usually, his family would leave him to it so he could get himself settled into life back on the island. But it seemed that despite his best efforts, he _had_ drawn attention at dinner as someone knocked on the door and Alan braced himself.

"What?" he snapped.

The door opened and brother number three stood in the doorway, no doubt about to chastise him for not eating enough at dinner. Virgil invited himself in and sat on the bed. Alan made himself busy by moving over to his suitcase so he could unpack.

"Al, are you okay?" he asked quietly.

He merely shrugged, opening his suitcase on the floor. "Yeah. Why?"

"You just don't seem right. You barely ate at dinner and we haven't even seen you properly since you came home. Is something going on at school?"

"What, no!" Alan replied, startled. "If anything, school is great. I even hold two school records for track. And my grades are much better now. I don't know, Virg, maybe I'm just having an off day."

"So, what's wrong?"

He gritted his teeth. "Nothing."

"Alan-"

He groaned in frustration, standing up. "Virgil, look, nothing is wrong, okay! I probably just need to sleep."

There were a few seconds of silence as Virgil no doubt contemplated whether or not to drag Alan down to the infirmary. "Fine, whatever. Just, you know where I am, okay?" And he left, leaving Alan to unpack his things alone.

Or so he thought.

There was another knock that Alan recognised as his immediate older brother and he rolled his eyes as, sure enough, Gordon entered without even waiting for Alan to acknowledge him.

"What do you want?" Alan asked wearily. He wasn't in the mood right now. "I'm not helping you with any pranks or any-"

"How about 'Hello, Gordon, long time no see, let's hug, I've missed you', no?" he said lightly, a stupid grin on his face. "I've missed you too, sprout, how's my favourite little brother doing?"

Alan simply looked at him blankly. "I'm your only little brother."

"And what an honour that is!" Gordon then proceeded to grab him in a headlock and rub his knuckles over his scalp. Alan yelped, struggling to get out of the swimmer's grip.

"Get off me!"

The aquanaut let him go and Alan stepped away from him though he didn't seem to notice. "Do you need any help unpacking? Not that I'd be much help, my room's the worst in the house."

Alan loved him, he really did, but he had no idea how his prankster brother consistently had this much energy. Bouncing up and down where he stood, he was like a scrappy puppy on caffeine.

He sighed. "Gordon, stop it."

The swimmer deflated. "But you're on summer vacation! We've got weeks to annoy our smother hen older brothers. Fine, first thing tomorrow then."

"Whatever."

"Dude, seriously, what's up with you?"

_For the love of-_ "Nothing!"

"Allie, please-"

"Get out!" he yelled, pointing to the door. Gordon was asking too many questions and his breath was catching in his throat. He needed to be alone. "Now."

Gordon held his hands up. "Okay, okay. I'm going," he said softly, giving Alan one final searching look before turning.

Alan flopped down on his bed as soon as the door closed, breathing heavily as his heart thumped in his chest. He probably needed to hide where Scott couldn't find him next but as he contemplated it, he yawned.

Maybe just a short nap was in order...

* * *

John was running on the treadmill when the call came in. Shutting off the equipment and letting it stop before stepping off, he grabbed the towel and rubbed it over his face and behind his neck before taking a few gulps of water from the bottle.

Activating his watch, he was greeted with his middle brother's face. "Hey, Virg, just gimme a sec." He headed for the direction of the monitor room, where he would transfer the call to one of the screens so he could see his brother properly and cool down from his run.

_"Oh, sorry, did I interrupt your workout? Wait, don't you usually do this at 1500? You haven't been running for over three hours, have you?"_ His tone was weary and concerned.

John rolled his eyes. The medic was arguably more of a smother hen than Scott sometimes, especially where their physical health was concerned. Knowing his routine off by heart was protocol apparently.

"No, Virgil, I haven't been running the whole time. I didn't get a chance until an hour ago as we had some calls come in that didn't need IR to intervene. Local authorities were able to handle them."

_"Just making sure you're still fine even in your old age,"_ the artist quipped back, and John snorted, stopping mid-walk to raise an eyebrow at his brother who was grinning widely.

"I am twenty-two months older than you – that's not even two whole years!"

Virgil winked. _"Still old."_

John reached the console and pressed a few buttons and flipped a switch, the watch feed moving from his wrist to one of the monitors above his head. Exchanging a wave as he sat down on the leather chair, he took a few more gulps of water, the towel resting loosely around his neck. He briefly studied the screen. Judging by the paintings he could see in the background behind his brother, Virgil was in his art studio.

"So, is this the daily check-in? What do you have for me?"

Virgil sighed deeply and looked down avoiding John's eyes which the astronaut immediately knew to be a bad sign. He could probably guess actually, knowing the whereabouts of his absent family members.

Dad and Scott were called to New York the day before yesterday on Tracy Industries business much to Scott's chagrin. Smother Hen Number One had been hoping to pick Alan up from Boston as it was the start of the sprout's summer vacation but Dad's PA, Katie Mellors, had insisted both eldest Tracy's were needed in the office. And because that was two of IR's operatives unavailable, Virgil and Gordon had been grounded on standby, with Brains to run Command. Which meant, in an almost dead ringer for Spring Break, calling in the help of their London Agent who was one of their family's closest friends and one of International Rescue's greatest allies.

" _Well, it's not the daily check-in but..."_ he trailed off and John took note of his tight jaw and tense shoulders. Something was bothering him.

"Alan?" Virgil nodded, slumping in his seat and John sighed, regarding his younger brother with worried eyes. "Why do I feel like this is Spring Break all over again?"

" _I know what you mean,"_ Virgil said glumly. _"Scott's been changing Thunderbird One's access code daily, not that Alan would try that again."_

John remembered getting the call from Scott after that incident. Alan had broken into the silo and fired up his Bird's engines. To say their eldest brother had been livid was an understatement.

"So, what's up with Alan? Do you want me to talk to him?"

Virgil shook his head. _"He'll know I put you up to it."_

"And that's a bad thing?"

" _John, he's just not himself at all. He's barely talked to anybody since he came home, blatantly avoiding all of us. I think he's mad that we had Lady P pick him up again. Fermat said he was very despondent on the flight here and Tin-Tin said he seemed uptight."_

John nodded, seeing it from the sprout's point of view. Spring Break had brought them all closer together, their whole family having been forced into a situation no one could have possibly predicted. The Hood, a madman hellbent on using the Thunderbirds to destroy IR's reputation as revenge, had blown Thunderbird Five apart and then invaded their island home. Alan had been put in an impossible situation, having to defend their livelihood from the madman while his family were stranded in space facing certain death.

John had only been back up on full-time duty on Thunderbird Five for six days, following weeks of R&R while his shoulder and back healed, while Brains and his father and brothers had helped to repair the satellite. It had been tedious work, but they'd fixed the massive hole in her side, Gordon having had the most tedious task of rescuing bits of debris with Thunderbird Three to see what Brains could salvage. The fish had spent the best part of three days in the pool upon returning to Earth.

It was a heavy reminder of how International Rescue was not invincible, not that any of them thought that. Injuries and accidents on the job were common. But with such incredible technology at their disposal, it was all too easy to feel a sense of complacency, especially with regards to the machines. And the Hood's method of attack had been to directly hit them where it would hurt, destroying their communications hub that was way out where she should have been unreachable.

Alan had outdone himself, along with Fermat and Tin-Tin. They'd embodied International Rescue's values perfectly, saving the lives of John and the rest of the family, those in the monorail in London, and even The Hood when it came to it. Jeff had made all three teens official reserve operatives, though they were still in the early stages of training.

He could see it from Alan's point of view. Why he was so mad Lady Penelope had had to pick him up again and not his family members. Alan wanted to be treated equally, as an adult, as one of the family – and he was, except on that particular day things were out of everybody's control and they'd had to plan accordingly.

Not only that but as he mulled everything over, he came to a startling conclusion. The Hood's attack on Thunderbird Five and everything that came after had been mere days after Alan's stint in Thunderbird One at the start of Spring Break. John marvelled at how they could have missed it.

"You know, I think Alan blames himself."

Virgil's brows furrowed. _"What on earth for?"_

"Think about it. He broke into Thunderbird One and fired her up without the anti-detection shield. Then The Hood shoots a missile up here drawing you all away from the island so he can hijack Thunderbird Two. I bet he thinks it's his fault."

Virgil raked a hand through his hair, his usually gelled-up style forgotten about. _"Scott blaming himself for not even knowing the tracking device was on Thunderbird One was bad enough. The whole rig rescue was a set-up even before Alan broke into the silo. The Hood had already tracked our base. Haven't we been over this?"_

"We have, but Alan went straight back to Wharton's after barely a week. The kid was probably still processing."

Virgil swore quietly. _"So, he's avoiding us because he's blaming himself and probably thinks we blame him too. We can't have that; we need to tell Scott and Dad."_

"Smothering him is probably the least helpful solution, Virgil."

There was a muffled knock and Virgil turned away from the screen, calling for whoever was at the door to show themselves. Once they entered Virgil's expression furrowed further and said quietly who he was talking to as the figure came into view.

" _Hi, Johnny-boy."_ It was Gordon but it also wasn't Gordon. The tone wasn't quite right, where their water-loving brother was usually upbeat and mildly exasperating, right now he was sullen and subdued.

"Gords?" he asked.

" _Something's up with Alan. I don't like it."_

_"You tried to talk to him too?"_ Virgil asked, as Gordon found a chair and flipped it around to sit on it backwards, resting his arms and chin on the back.

" _Well, if you did before me no wonder he wanted me out of the room as soon as possible."_

Virgil made to protest but John interrupted before the two of them could start bickering. "Guys, can it. Gordon, how did Alan act?"

He watched the aquanaut ponder for a few seconds. _"He was just so hard to talk to. Like, he wouldn't say more than a few words to anything. He was super moody and snappy."_

" _That is exactly how he was with me,"_ Virgil confirmed. John smiled at the identical worried looks on both his younger brothers' faces. It was nothing new, ingrained into them all from birth. The protective instinct that came with younger siblings.

"Look, try not to panic," he said gently, "Maybe he just needs to adjust to being back home. Let him sleep it off and see how he is tomorrow. Tracy One's not long since taken off from JFK, so I'll mention it to Dad if he calls."

_"Not Scott?"_ Virgil quirked an eyebrow.

"Scott's even worse than you, Virg. If I even give him an inkling into Alan's behaviour, Smother Hen will be all over him and that will probably do more harm than good. Just give the sprout space, let him cool off."

" _I'm going for a swim,"_ Gordon announced, stretching his arms out before standing up. John winced as he heard his limbs click even through the screen.

John swiped the towel over his face once more. "And I'm going for a shower. Don't strain yourself, Fish. And take it easy on Alan."

_"I'll keep an eye on him,"_ Virgil said, before pointing a finger at him. _"Make sure you eat."_

He chuckled and mock saluted. "Yes, Doc."

* * *

Scott smiled as the radar showed the island up ahead, and he pressed the button on the control panel to activate the comm. As much as he could see in the twilight, the ocean was calm, stretching endlessly out in every direction. His father was asleep beside him, having nodded off just before they crossed the Gulf of California.

"Tracy Island from Tracy One. We're on final approach, requesting permission to land."

" _G-Green light, Tracy One, you are c-clear for landing. Welcome home."_

"Thanks, Brains," he replied, smiling. The simple code meant everyone was home – no rescues and no Thunderbirds deployed. Amber was Rescue in Operation and Red meant Thunderbirds inbound, whether for take-off or landing. Scott was almost annoyed they hadn't been called out as it meant his two middle brothers would have had Alan to themselves since he got home.

Jeff stirred beside him at the noise and Scott informed him they were just about to land, smiling fondly at how his father could let his guard down and sleep with his eldest piloting. It had been a long, long two days. His father stretched as well as he could in the co-pilot's seat. The island was visible before them now, her soft lights the only sign of civilisation for miles.

"Nice job, Scotty. Time for coffee, giving Alan a hug, checking in with John, and then bed."

Tracy One touched down on the runway with expert precision, Scott being practiced enough he could fly the jet in his sleep. As he slowed her down, the hanger doors opened at the press of a button and the jet came to a stop in her home within the cavernous space. Thunderbird Two was hidden from view behind the false wall at the rear, rescue ready at all times but away from the public eye, so guests arriving were unaware of their ulterior motive for having a tropical island home.

Having completed the post-flight diagnostics, father and son exited the jet. Scott sent a command from his watch that would code a reminder for refuelling into the comm system. They took the elevator up to the villa and separated, Jeff heading to the kitchen for coffee while Scott headed straight for his room to get out of his stiff shirt and pants. Business attire was an unfortunate necessity for carrying out Tracy Industries work as it kept up the company standards.

Didn't mean Scott had to like it.

Changing into sweatpants and an old Air Force t-shirt, he headed back out into the hall. All the lights were off in the bedrooms that he could see, and he was about to head towards the games room when he saw that one room at the end of the hallway was emitting light after all.

Alan's.

He approached the door, listening for any voices before knocking softly. He didn't get any reply, but he wasn't worried as he slowly opened the door, taking in the sight of his youngest brother curled up still fully clothed under a blanket on the bed. He'd probably fallen asleep sprawled on top of the sheets and when one of the family had come to check on him, they'd covered him up with the blanket rather than wake him up.

Scott smiled fondly, his mind casting him back to when they were kids and Alan was merely three years old, right after their mom passed away. Alan would sleep curled up in Scott's bed more often than not, seeking comfort and security from his eldest brother in the absence of their parents. Scott had basically raised Alan alongside Jeff.

The sprout had evidently been napping for a while and Scott thought he might as well get him ready for bed and tuck him in. He knew their dad would be up shortly after his coffee.

Perching himself on the bed, he reached out and stroked a hand over Alan's head. Glancing around the room he saw the open suitcase on the floor that wasn't yet emptied, and his Wharton Academy uniform thrown over the back of the chair at the desk.

There was a sleepy groan as Alan stirred and Scott smiled as his blue eyes blinked open and focused.

"Hey, sprout!"

The stony look that passed over Alan's face was not what Scott expected. The blonde shifted on the bed, jamming himself up against the headboard.

"What are you doing in here?" he demanded, though his glare didn't have much force coming from his sleep-riddled self.

Scott let his demeanour slide. "Dad and I just got home from New York but hey, it's your first day of vacation. It's great to have you home again!"

Alan's face clouded over and Scott almost recoiled. "Yeah, sure."

"Allie, are you okay?" Scott was frowning now, his big brother sense heightening. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"Just please leave me alone," Alan said quietly, leaning his head back with his eyes on the ceiling.

But Scott didn't move. Something was up with Alan. His youngest brother had made space between them, making himself as small as possible against the back of the bed. His mind reeled, alarm bells ringing in his head. He tried to say something again, but Alan was yelling at him and all hell seemed to break loose.

Someone was pulling him backwards and his instincts immediately kicked in, striking out cleanly with his elbow, expecting a stomach. But his blow was dodged, and he was surprised until he was suddenly blocking a fist with his arm and his opponent was revealed.

The one other brother with combat training.

Then he was blocking again, remaining defensive against Gordon's offence, no time to fathom what on earth was going on. The only thing he could get his brain to comprehend was that his brother was not the enemy, no need to take him out hard. Defence only.

Alan was still yelling on the bed and the sound broke Scott's heart. He turned, eyes fixed on his distressed youngest brother just for a moment, his mind trying to wrap itself around the entire situation.

A moment too long. He'd left himself wide open and the next moment he was staggering, only just managing to avoid hitting the floor.

He put a hand to his jaw. "What the _fuck_ , Gordon!"

"Sorry," he huffed, not sounding sorry at all as he began pushing the pilot towards the door. "Come on. Out."

Feeling dazed Scott gave in, allowing the aquanaut to shove him out of the bedroom. His confusion grew further upon seeing Virgil spring up from the floor in the hallway as if he'd been waiting. Scott forced himself out of Gordon's grip, spinning to face the pair, a finger threateningly pointing at their chests.

"You two better have an excellent explanation for this."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *hides*
> 
> I'm currently participating in a February writing challenge (Febuwhump on tumblr) so not sure when the next update will come but please stay tuned!


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